Angel REVISED
by Anguish of My Love
Summary: She thought of him as a normal boy. Not a demon, not a killer, not an outcast. Just a kid like her. She was an angel. Naruhina Sequel Up! 'Learning To Love You'


Disclaimer: Like you'd believe me if I said I owned Naruto.

P.S. Naruto and Hinata are only, like, six or so in the first part of this fic.

* * *

He ran. Away from them, from those heartless people, from their unwavering beatings, from those piercing words. He thrust his legs harder, using all his strength to get away.

_Faster, faster,_ he chanted over and over again, _faster, faster_. He looked behind him, so much people going after him. _Faster, faster, faster_. He tried to, with every urgency he felt, every urgency.....and fear......and worthlessness. _Faster, faster!!_

"Ahh!!" He felt a sting on his knee. He didn't want to look at it. _No more blood, no more pain_. His body reacted on its own and hastily stood up and began going away again. Where was he going to hide? He twisted his head. Where? _Where_?

"There!" he whispered to himself. He took a curve to an alleyway. Another turn. There was a garbage can. He used all that was left in him to make him go even quicker. His legs sprung behind the tin, his ears strained from the shouts of the villagers, their footsteps getting closer and closer.

His breathing became shallow. He prayed to whoever still cared for him that they won't search for him here.

The townspeople arrived, he stopped breathing altogether. His pools shut tight, every beat of his heart faster and louder than the last.

They didn't notice him. Their feet passed his way and went straight ahead. He didn't dare go out until he didn't hear their voices and footsteps any longer. His neck craned out of the bin and looked around the area. With his heart still pounding, he uncertainly stepped out and limped to the other way.

He walked without really knowing where to go. His breathing was ragged and labored, his limbs and body hurt from the running and from the thrashings he hadn't escaped, his eyes aching from the tears he shed, and the blood running over them. He felt the oozing liquid in nearly every part of him.

Unexpectedly, he tripped over a rock and fell down. He didn't get up. His body throbbed and couldn't move. He laid there, like a beaten dog without energy to stand, to go back, to live.

He felt so pathetic. So useless. So unwanted. _Baka._ He was crying again. It was stupid to cry but he couldn't help it. No one loved him, heck, even like him. They all hated him. Everyone.

His ears twitched all of a sudden. Before he could even brush all the tears away, there were pale feet in front of him. His eyes looked up.

Looking down at him was a young girl, about his age, with a pure white kimono. She had short sapphire locks and lilac eyes filled with pity.

It was fake. It was always fake.

The girl bent down and continued to stare at him with the same sad eyes. Her fist slowly, almost hesitantly, reached for his face. He closed his eyes, and felt warm fingertips in his cheek. He flinched in response. She was just pretending, she would slap him a second later.

She didn't. He waited. Her palm placed itself on his face and he opened his pools again. She was the same girl and had the same expression. His breath got stock in his throat.

She parted her lips. "Why are you hurt?" He made no answer, he couldn't. This person, she didn't scream. She didn't run, or strike him, or call him a monster. She just stared at him and asked why he had wounds. She cared for him.

"Why are you hurt?" she inquired once more, this time louder.

He opened his mouth. And closed it again. What was he going to say? That all the adults kept injuring him? That everyone hated him? That they thought he'd die from everything they did to him? He didn't want to tell her those things. So he, again, didn't reply.

Noticing this, the pale-eyed child decided to stop asking.

She lightly placed her hand on his wrist—he looked incredulously at her—and pulled it up. As if in a daze, he pushed his other hand and stood up, with her following him. Her hand slid down to his and she tugged on it. His eyes scanned her as she led him to a nearby tree, wondering if this person was really there, and he wasn't just imagining her.

The next thing he knew, he was already sitting with bark against his back. The child was kneeling down in front of him and she had grabbed the hem of her dress. He continued to stare at her as her covered fingers neared his face. He felt something warm slid down his face.

His eyes widened.

The blood, _his_ blood, was vanishing from his skin. The warmth moved along his face and soon went down to the rest of his body. His arms, his torso, his stomach, his legs.

_She's cleaning me._

How? Everyone else called him a monster and treated him like one, but not this girl. This girl—this _maiden_—was wiping away his wounds. She was caring for him. She thought of him as a normal boy. Not a demon, not a killer, not an outcast. Just a kid like her.

Her eyes locked with his again. She gave a sweet smile. Who was she?

"Are you alright now?"

He barely managed a nod.

Who was she?

She sat down beside him and looked skyward. He heard her humming a soft tune, a lullaby. Her eyelids fluttered close and she leaned against the bark.

Who was she?

Her eyes suddenly opened, and her body straightened. She looked towards her right, then unsurely to him. Her pools asked, _May I leave you here?_

He gave a weak smile, his first true one, and watched her run away, but not out of fear like the others.

Who was she?

Looking at her short hair bounce and sway along her moves, he found out the answer.

_She's an angel._

* * *

Naruto slowly opened his eyes and yawned loudly. Stretching his arms, he got up and grabbed a pair of clothes and headed for the bathroom.

He was fifteen now and completely content with his life.

Well, as completely as having his best friend (though he would never tell anyone that) turn against him and everyone else, chasing after a band of criminals that could kill him, and having a demon inside of him getting out of control more than once could provide him.

He shook his head and tugged his jacket on him. He went and got his pouch of weaponry and headed outside. Time for some of that daily training.

He jumped from roof to roof, scanning them and the vibrant purple sky.

He knew who the girl from before was, of course. Her hair had remained the same when they were all just genins and only the Hyūgas had those pale lavender eyes. And the special warmness they had, well, it never escaped him.

He knew Hinata Hyūga was the young girl way back when.

But he never dared tell her anything. Not about how she was the very first person who cared. Not about how he would always think of that incident whenever he felt like everyone hated him. Not about how her innocent smile warmed his heart.

Nothing.

He never approached her because he was afraid.

Yes, that's right. Uzumaki Naruto was afraid.

He suddenly stopped in front of a training ground. But it wasn't the one he trained in. He walked slowly, so very silently, until he arrived on a nearby tree. There was a fairly big rock beside it and he placed himself on it. He turned his head to the right.

And Hinata stood there, slapping her palms on a tree that had a huge dent on it. Naruto was pretty sure she had done that.

He'd do this sometimes, watch her train. It wasn't too often but it wasn't too rare either. There were times he'd do it before he, himself, trains, other times, after, and for others, he wouldn't train at all, before or after, and was happy looking at her working her heart off.

He knew that she loved him, for much too long. He may be dense, but not so much that he wouldn't recognize the blushes and stutters he always got from the raven-haired female. It was too obvious, after all.

And that was what he was scared of.

He was scared to return her feelings. He knew well enough of this love thing, and he wasn't sure he needed it right now—or better yet, _ready_ right now. Ready for the pain it gave, he'd had too much of that already.

That was the reason he chose Sakura, after all.

She would never look at him like that, never think of him like that. He wouldn't ache if Sakura was the one he loved (or falsely love) because they would always be friends. There wouldn't be any problems about their love since it was non-existent. There wouldn't be any bitter sweetness in their relationship. And he was comfortable with that.

But there was always a maybe.

He wanted to love someone, wanted that someone to love him. He longed to kiss someone and hold them close, knowing they wouldn't push him away.

But he just wasn't ready.

So he contented himself with watching her blossom into someone beautiful because he helped her. He satisfied himself with watching her strive to meet someone who was like Naruto (though, in his opinion, she already has). He gratified himself with watching her earn her place in this world, _his_ world (he's not sure if she has, but maybe, maybe).

He sighed softly and stood up. Turning to a different direction, he walked away.

He needed to distract himself before his thoughts get too far.

....

Sweat was glistening on every part of his body and nearly all of it was aching with fatigue. There were a few bruises here and there, some deep enough to hurt for the next month.

He had trained too hard. But he knew it was mostly because his mind kept pestering him about Hinata and love.

He shook his head and reached the stall he came here for.

"Ohayō!"

"Naruto-kun!" He heard a small gasp from his left and turned to face the voice. He knew it was Hinata, of course, no one had a voice gentle enough to match hers. "Yo, Hinata-chan." A wide grin plastered on his face.

Sauntering toward her, he sat himself on a sit next to her. She kept glancing at him, some out of worry, some out of anxiety, her rose-colored cheeks stayed ever-so present, he didn't have to look to know she was fiddling with her chopsticks. He bluntly ignored her usual bouts of nervousness and ordered a big bowl of pork ramen.

While waiting for his breakfast, he looked at his seatmate. She was eating normally, albeit her quivering hands. And he wondered how anyone (especially Sakura) could even _think_ he didn't know how she felt, or notice her actions for that matter.

And suddenly there were those nagging thoughts in his head again. He tried to ignore them, he really did. But thoughts weren't meant to be ignored and there was no distraction—atleast, not the kind that would stop them from coming.

So he kept hearing those words about Hinata and how he wasn't ready for her affection. And somewhere in his heart, a small tug was felt.

She loved him and he knew. He knew, but he did nothing about it.

He sighed and looked at her again, but, this time, he didn't turn away.

Hinata returned her gaze with curious eyes, her face just a little brighter than a moment ago. Her hand was slightly raised, chopsticks and pieces of noodles floating in the air. "N-Naruto-kun?"

He didn't respond for a while, his eyes still glued to hers. And he abruptly smiled at her.

"Nee, Hinata-chan," he leaned a little closer to her, "Can I train with you later?"

It wouldn't be much of a change in their relationship, but he thinks that she deserves this (well, more actually, but he isn't prepared yet) and maybe, he would finally be ready for her love.

And besides—his smile widened a fraction—she was his angel, after all.

* * *

There, a new and improved Angel! I changed the second part and took a totally different turn from before, making Naruto know about who the girl was and what Hinata felt a long time ago and him not being ready, etc.

I pretty much wrote the second part for only half an hour but I think it's better. Not the best, but good enough.

I honestly wouldn't have changed this if **The last blue Rose** hadn't said that it felt incomplete (it was and I didn't know!), so it's thanks to her I revised it. Thank you, **The last blue Rose**!

And hopefully, no one was OOC here, unlike the un-revised one.

Translations:

Baka-Idiot, moron, stupid person, etc.

Ohayō -Good morning

Criticisms and flames (I like fire! :D) are welcome with open arms. And hopefully enough, you guys like this one.


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